


This Is Not How I Die

by Fen_Assan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pain (Physical and Emotional), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:46:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fen_Assan/pseuds/Fen_Assan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a kmeme prompt which asked for Fenris getting hurt accidentally while he's having a really bad pain day. As a result, he very out of character vocally and emphatically expresses his pain.<br/>***<br/>After the first night with Hawke, Fenris finds himself in a very dark place and tries to deal with his pain in various ways. It will hurt more before it gets better. But it will get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Not How I Die

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Fenris suffers a lot in this fic so it's quite dark and full of angst (especially the first half), but it does end with happy fluff.

Fenris jolted up from the crumpled old rags on the thin, threadbare and moth-eaten thing of a mattress. Someone was screaming. He jumped to his feet, accidentally kicking an empty wine bottle. He ignited his lyrium markings instead of reaching for the sword, ready for the attack that did not come. As he irritably pushed the damp white strands of hair out of his eyes, his sleep fled him, but the nightmare remained. It was himself who'd been screaming, he realized.

He stood still for a moment longer, almost hoping to hear someone else's voice, crying out someone else's pain. Then slumped back on the floor, missing the mattress entirely and only making an effort to reposition himself to lean against the bare, apart from scratches and stains, and cold wall. He drew his knees up to hold his elbows and rubbed his face with his hands, leaving them there, fingers pressing against the shut eyelids. He tried to breathe, inhale slowly and deeply, but the air seemed to bubble inside and did not want to stay in his lungs. 

Something tickled his chin and he tried to brush it away with his right hand but it didn't work. He let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob as he saw what it was. Hawke's scarf, neatly tied around his wrist. Her favor. A token of affection, she'd said, a sign that it was him to whom she wanted to give herself, to whom she wanted to belong. What kind of a favor was it if all it did was hurt?

It wasn't that, he knew. The piece of fabric held no responsibility for the searing pain shooting through his body in constant waves, like a restless sea in an endless storm sent by the angered gods upon the unworthy. The lyrium sizzled on his skin, twisting, bringing back only the shadows of the flashes of the scathing memories lost again. That was all he could feel. The pain and and the loss. He could not remember anymore. He knew it had come back, he knew it had been his body's reaction to the sensation of Hawke's hot skin on his and to the way his heart had fluttered at her touch. She had somehow made him remember something, someone, himself?, from his past. And then it was gone, leaving him nauseated, taunted by the lingering need to tap into it again, to feel, to see, to remember. But that would mean losing it again. It was harder to lose if you did not have. It was in fact almost impossible to lose if you did not have. Almost.

He got up again and started pacing the room. Why did he do it? Why did he do it? Why did he do it? He couldn't tell himself what he was asking about. And he was even more reluctant to try and give answers but that was inevitable. Why did he go to see Hawke last night? No, that was easy. He truly wanted to apologize for how he'd behaved when they'd fought that magister. Hadriana...ugh, brought too many recollections and those were full to bursting with pain and hatred. He couldn't have let her live. And that talk of his sister. A sister? Could he have a sister? If he did, could he not remember her at all? He could, of course he could. He must have had parents, too but he had no memories of them either. All of Hadriana's lies could be truth or could be just that, lies. She had to torture him even as she was about to die. She must have known she'd die. That sadistic bitch!

Fenris stopped and took a few breaths.

But Hawke didn't deserve his anger. He'd done the right thing coming to see her. He'd had a hard time doing the right thing. His intended apology had turned into another fight with Hawke. How typical and how pathetic of him. And how incredible that she had not just thrown him out. She had stopped him from leaving instead. With her hand on his arm, making the song of his lyrium burst into a crazed orchestra, his skin glowing so bright it'd painted her face blue. She had not let him go, she had gasped as he'd pinned her against the wall and she'd found his lips in a hungry kiss. And then...

He did not want to relive the events of the night before all over again but could not get enough of them. Why did he kiss her back? Why did he stay and share her bed? No, wrong again. It was clear as day. Although he hadn't seen a lot of those lately. The days seemed bleak and muddy, even when it didn't rain. He'd somehow always managed to stand in the mud. Fenhedis! Where did that bloody whining come from?! He couldn't believe himself. He realized he was hugging himself, trying to stop shaking and failing. Where was he? Hawke. Yes. He wanted her, simple as that. Or rather, no, not much was simple where she was concerned. There was more to it than just want. How much more he did not have the strength to dig to find out. He was glad he'd stayed. She was...he'd say amazing if he used such words. She was amazing.

So what remained was... Why did he leave her? Why did he creep out of bed and put his full armour back on and almost tried to sneak out? Coward. He told her when she woke up. It had been better than anything he could have dreamed. But he lied, lied to her and to himself when he said it should never have happened. It had to happen because he wanted it to, needed it to happen. To happen differently. So he'd left. He'd run away, again, like a kicked dog. Although he hadn't been kicked exactly. He'd been taken to a home, to a bed by someone who wanted to care for him. Someone who probably did. And he managed to hurt her. All that pain...just served him right. 

"Fuck!" He yelled, balling his hands into fists and kicking all and any object that found itself at his feet. There was more than enough litter to kick in that empty, derelict, desolate slaver's mansion. It was his now, he reminded himself, he could do something about it. Not use it as a rusted wire to pick at his wounds.

The kicking didn't help the physical pain of course, rather made it worse. What with all the bottle shards digging into the the lines of lyrium on his bare feet, cutting his skin and making walking slippery with the blood trickling between his toes. But the kicking made that other kind of pain, the one he had even more trouble dealing with or even expressing, somewhat less desperate. It gave him a chance to pretend he was only hurting there, on the surface.

 

Having dismissed the possibility of more sleep that night, Fenris went down into the cellar for more wine. He grabbed the first dusty, spiderweb covered bottle, uncorked it with a knife and gulped down almost have the contents in one go. He looked at the bottle with distaste and, all of a sudden utterly disgusted with himself, hurled it at the crates stashed in the corner. It smashed, taking a couple more bottles with it, the dark red liquid splashing and dripping about. 

He had to do something. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't drink, he couldn't possibly go back to Hawke's, not when he was like this. He decided to just go out, hoping there'd be enough thieves and cutpurses roaming in the shadows. Or assassins for that matter, the more skillful the better. He needed a fight to take his mind off...well, everything. He stormed through the mansion, only pausing to pick up the sword, and slipped into the chilly night air of Hightown.

***  
Fenris only realized it had dawned when he saw a trickle of merchants arriving into the marketplace, cursing at the sight of blood pooling and a few dead bodies strewn in between the stalls. They held off shouting for the guards though until they'd checked the bodies for coin and any valuables and were more than surprised to actually find some loot. Those were the thugs and cutthroats who'd met their death in the form of a glowing blue haze before it cut them down or ripped their beating hearts out. They were the ones the city would do better without but that night Fenris had not wanted to take any reward for that. He was sitting in a narrow side alley, propping his aching arm. One of the opponents had turned out to be noteworthy enough and Fenris clearly hadn't had any restoratives or healing potions on him. 

He knew a person who was sure to be up and about her business at that time of day already. And however reluctant he was to ever visit The Viscount's Keep, he headed towards The City Guard Barracks to talk to Aveline. To tell her about the marketplace. Maybe to ask for a potion. Definitely to see a friendly, even though stern, face. Stern was even better, actually. He didn't want sympathy, did he? He just wanted the pain to stop. Didn't he? Yes, he did, he was sure about that one.

The Keep was almost empty at that hour, save for the servants shuffling about doing their endless dusting, brushing and polishing. Fenris hadn't really got used to them nodding respectfully at him. He wondered if he came across as arrogant at times when he didn't know what to do in response and just walked on. It was easier to greet the guards, who saw another warrior in him, not exactly a brother-in-arms but they at least didn't give him too much of extra attention because of his markings.

Following the steps down to the Guard Captain's office, Fenris entered through the almost always open doors and saw Aveline reading something that was probably a report and rubbing her forehead. Aware that his movements were very quiet, he gave a little cough, startling her slightly anyway. 

"Fenris!"

She exclaimed, looking him over, furrowing her brow with concern at the state of him but habitually quickly regaining her composure.

" Are you alright? Are you alone?"

She asked, turning around, as if to check. If anyone else was coming in after him, she'd expect it to be Hawke. But the elf confirmed what she saw herself.

"No. And yes."

He sighed and sagged down into a chair without invitation.

"I wanted to tell you, before you get the reports for last night. Though you might have them already."

He gestured towards the parchment she'd been reading when he'd arrived and which was now sitting on top of the pile of others on her desk.

"I'm listening."

Fenris appreciated Aveline's approach, she always got straight to business. So he recounted his fray with the criminals and its conclusion. Aveline often asked Hawke and the companions for assistance in cases where she couldn't or found it inappropriate to use her guards so this was nothing strange that Fenris had taken care of a gang. Even if it might have been unexpected that he'd done it without prior request from her and had done it alone. She didn't go into that line of interrogation.

"I'm afraid I can't pay you for this, Fenris. You have done me and this city a service but I couldn't possibly make this official through the paperwork, I'm sorry."

He blinked up at her from below the white strands of hair falling over his eyes.

"I...did not come for that. I don't need any payment. That's fine. I just..."

Aveline uncrossed her arms, approached the man she thought of as her friend and, dragging another chair in, sat next to him.

"Fenris, you said you're not all right but you never said why. Were you badly hurt in that fight? Did anything else happen?"

"I...find it hard to admit but yes, I could use a healing potion."

He exhaled with a defeated expression. The woman stood up and, having fetched a vial from the cabinet in the corner, handed it to him.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?! There you go."

Fenris popped the cork with his thumb, swigged the reddish potion and cringed as the liquid flowed through his body, washing over the most heavily injured parts and hurting stronger before making him feel better. He knew it wouldn't fix the pain from his lyrium, might only dull it slightly, but the release from the cuts and bruises of the night before was welcome. The Guard Captain was eyeing him all through the process, easily picking up on how hurt he was but remaining quiet and only nodding when he finally met her gaze and said:

"Thank you."

"Do you want to tell me anything else?"

Aveline asked as blunt as he expected her to be but he still faltered.

"I...No, not now."

"I have a question to you then."

She was back to business as if she'd never really digressed.

"Did you consider my offer for you to train the guard in Tevinter fighting techniques? I've heard nothing."

Fenris lost the beginnings of relaxation in a simple friendly conversation he'd begun to feel the moment she uttered her query. A familiar scowl plastered itself on his face.

"My abilities were inflicted, not taught. I will not pass that on."

"Some good should come of them." She insisted.

"No."

Aveline shook her head looking through the window at the slowly waking city but did not give vocal indication she was displeased with Fenris' stubbornness.

"Will you spar with me?"

"Now?"

Aveline was not surprised by the elf's request, they did train together from time to time. The question was simply of practical nature of whether she could spare the time. She felt the question of whether he was fit for it was redundant so she kept it to herself.

"Can you?" There was a deeply covered by the armour of his scowl and his rough tone and his intent gaze, a "please".

"Sure. See you in the training yard. Give me just a moment to send this."

 

The training yard was only slightly populated by the guards who were clearly finishing up their practice. They were sweaty, with faces reddened from exertion and were only throwing half-hearted blows. Fenris spared them a look as he entered and was content they were giving him a wide berth and not trying to question who he was or what he was doing there. The guards started pulling off their armour and patting each other on their backs, signifying the end of the session, when their Captain entered the grounds. She was carrying her usual longsword and shield and heading towards one of the melee sparring areas, having indicated its direction to Fenris with a nod of invitation.

He sprang to his feet, reaching for his greatsword and hunching into a combat stance even before reaching the spot. Their eyes met for a quick acknowledgment, followed immediately by the first swing of the two-handed weapon caught half-way by the shield. Next, steel met steel in a few warming up moves before they started exchanging blows in earnest, uprooting patches of grass as they circled around each other.

Aveline liked going into battle with the broody elf. She knew that despite his murky past and even somewhat shady present, he could be trusted. He'd saved her life more than once and she'd returned the favour. She liked the rare opportunities of training with him as well as it made her, made both of them, she suspected, feel liberated. He never gave her special treatment just because she was a woman. And she never gave him special treatment just because he was an elf escaped from slavery.

The Guard Captain knew Fenris had had a tough night but he still seemed a bit more off than he should have been. His usual swiftness was reduced, his grace in battle gave way to too many rough edges, too many unnecessary moves. That just wasn't the Fenris she was used to seeing even in long and tiring battles.

He grunted, only just avoiding the blow from her sword, annoyed at his ungainliness. He was still hurting, true enough, but he'd faced and defeated enemies in worse conditions than that. Why won't the stupid pain just go away?!

"Arrgghh!" Fenris growled, turning to swing the heavy sword, as his markings flared blue with his frustration and caused him to turn into a ghostly figure, half Fade-like emptiness and half bright lyrium.

"Ow!" He yelped the next moment, unable to control himself as he felt his hardly visible skin come into contact with someone else's hot fingers gripping him and causing him agonizing pain.

Aveline was watching in horror as Fenris' sword dropped from his hands to the ground, banging on a stone and the elf himself followed, collapsing.

"Guardsman Donnic!" She cried out, "What did you do to him? Let him go!"

The hapless guardsman seemed shocked more than anyone and lifted his hands in a part-defensive and part-apologetic gesture.

"I...I didn't do anything, I just grabbed his arm! I'm sure I didn't break it or anything. Did I?!"

Aveline was trying to help Fenris sit by lifting him up a bit but she only got another cry of pain from him as he forced himself into somewhat upright position.

"Don't touch me!"

He finally managed, lifting one arm as a shield. Donnic was looking at the elf as if he was a strangest and most disagreeable bug he encountered floating in his soup and he just couldn't figure out how he'd got there. He also couldn't leave the matter well alone when it concerned the Guard Captain.

"What is wrong with you? The Captain's trying to help and you're just sitting here like a..."

"Guardsman Donnic, shut up!" The said Captain snapped. "What in the name of the Maker possessed you to interfere at all?!" She was quite indignant.

"But he was...glowing! He was suddenly doing this strange magic and yelling and I..."

Fenris was sitting on the ground, weak and finding it difficult to breathe. His unsteady hands started unbuckling his breastplate to relieve the tension in his chest, hoping it would let some more air into his lungs. Aveline stepped a bit away from him, gaining now on her guardsman, a very attractive one, she would admit, later, not now.

"Did you allow yourself to think I was some damsel in distress in need of rescue, guardsman?"

The poor man was bright red in the face, afraid she'd think he believed her weak and not willing to admit he did want to rescue her, to protect her, to be useful to her...

"No, I...But the glowing and the magic were so sudden, I thought you didn't expect...thought...it could be dangerous..."

He started mumbling. Fenris, now just in his sweat-drenched tunic clinging to his skin, was taking long careful breaths of air. With this second mention of magic he could no longer abide the man's stupidity. Despite the overflowing pain and weakness, he hauled himself up to his feet, head hanging low, and charged at the guardsman angrily, lifted both arms to grab the man by the neck and headbutted him. The moment he roared with pain before tumbling to the ground again was the one when Hawke and Varric chose to appear in the guards training yard.

 

"So that's how you spend your early mornings! And I always thought the best stories happen in Hightown at night."

Varric offered instead of a greeting. Coming closer, however, he realized the situation was more severe and the teasing in his voice was replaced by genuine concern.

"Broodie, you're a mess. What's going on here?"

The dwarf looked at the elf crumpled on the ground, his tunic half-tucked and his breastplate thrown aside carelessly, then at confused Aveline, at the guardsman standing nearby holding his heavily bleeding nose up and then at Hawke, who was for no clear reason at all keeping her distance but taking in all the details of the scene with keen and worried eyes.

Fenris was the one to break the silence without lifting his head up or removing his hand from his face.

"This is it. This is how I die."

They all stared at him in utter disbelief, while Hawke moved closer in a heartbeat and was tentatively gathering her magic but not using it yet. Fenris apparently felt though it as he twitched a little but remained otherwise frozen, his head hung, and did not move to look up at her. Hawke's voice came out hoarse when she spoke, as if she'd been silent for days.

"Fenris. What is going on? What's happened? I can help you."

"In my whole life, while I was a slave, treated like a thing, when I was left behind by my master, when I was struggling with every single step and breath, never did I entertain the though of taking my life. But this...is just too much and...will you do this for me, Hawke?"

He finally looked up at her and she didn't shudder when she saw a tear in his eye and a trickle of blood running from his forehead, because she'd already been shaking slightly. She returned the intense gaze of his dim green eyes with her clear blue and there was more mixed emotion there than any of them could read. She used her magic to swiftly examine Fenris and seemed both relieved and troubled by the result.

"What is this talk of dying for, Fenris? What is wrong? Tell me, please! I will do anything to help you."

None of the companions were particularly used to hearing Hawke plead and beg. They shuffled uncomfortably and Varric eventually joined in the conversation.

"Broodie, really, tell us. All I can see is a small cut on your forehead, Hawke can fix it in a bit if you just let her."

"No, it's fucking not just a cut and you fucking can't heal it! So better finish me and be done with it! And if you decide to have a ridiculous funeral when I'm dead, don't let Anders come!"

Varric backed away a bit from Fenris' explosion but only to try out a tiny smirk.

"OK, guys, I see our good old elf is still here somewhere. Look, Broody, we've seen you break not only someone else's bones but your own and not even sneeze about it. This is something different, isn't it?"

Fenris addressed his shouting at Varric now.

"It is different! It's all different but it's all the same! I couldn't do it! I was a coward! I left! I ran away from something I want more than anything, I want as much as I wanted my freedom and now I am supposed to be free but I'm not! I couldn't stay with her. I hurt her but I didn't want to. It was...beautiful. She's so...tender and no one's ever been tender to me. It was like a miracle I couldn't even hope for but I just couldn't handle the memories, or the loss."

Fenris let out an uncontrollable sob without actually shedding any tears. While Hawke managed to blush and look tormented at the same time, the realization dawned on Varric as he was looking at the two of them in turn.

"Wait, wait, are you saying...the two of you had...? I can't believe it."

The statement made Fenris get up a bit and shoot a murderous glare at the dwarf.

"What, that she'd want to bed a slave, all be it an ex one?"

Varric and Aveline both flinched as if hit across the face as Hawke clenched her fists and shouted out:

"You're not a slave!" and turned on Fenris looking as if she was going to lift him up and shake that idea out of him once and for all. Varric was in her way though.

"Oh she's been hot for you for ages, Broodie. And no one's missed your longing looks in her not so general direction. What I can't believe is you're sitting here and actually talking about it. This is definitely the most words you've said in a row in your entire life-time!"

Annoyed, angry and hurt and now tormented by Fenris' state and too frustrated at not being able to get it out in a fight as she'd planned to, Hawke turned on Varric.

"And how do you think mocking him is going to help?"

Varric wasn't new to angry Hawke and was not intimidated in the least. He lifted his shoulders and opened his arms at her to help convince her of his sincerity. 

"That's the point! I'm not mocking, I'm just genuinely impressed. This is actually getting us somewhere."

In their glaring battle the mage and the rogue never noticed that Fenris had tried to get up to his feet but only got as far as to shakily stand on his knees. Aveline, who'd been busy tending to Donnic's bleeding and probably broken nose had just sent him off to see the healer and rushed to Fenris' side at the same time as Hawke did. None of the women helped him stay upright though as he shook his head and waved them off. Hawke had to bite her lip with the hurt of him refusing her help but stayed where she was and listened as he slowly resumed speaking. 

"Hawke. I'm sorry. That I left. I'm not sorry about what had happened before that because that was probably the best thing to ever happen to me at all. Meeting you was the best thing and that...was so much more." 

He sat back on his legs with the weight of it, of saying it out loud. She whispered, no longer able to control the tears falling silently and not trying to hide or brush them away.

"Why are you here? What did you do after you'd left?"

"I wanted to fight, to cause pain to someone who deserved it, for a change, and to feel pain myself. Another kind of it because there's too much of this pain I'm feeling already. I don't know if I can do it like this. But I...I just want to be better." 

"Will you let me help?"

"Why would you want to help me now? After what I've done?"

He asked full of sadness but there was hope hiding in that question, that he would be forgiven and accepted. And that was exactly what Hawke wanted to give him. She wanted him to know and to feel that he was forgiven for any past sins and mistakes, accepted for what he was, needed for the whole world she knew he could give her just by being with her and, loved. Because she already did. 

"For the same reason I wanted you to stay last night. I want to be with you."

"Can't you see I'm broken?"

"You are not. Some parts of you are and I would give anything to try to mend them. I think I can. "

He looked at her with tenderness and longing and extended his hand still sitting down. She came closer the same instant and knelt in front of him, barely brushing her fingers on his hand. He didn't flinch at the contact and she gently pulled away his fringe to look at his forehead. The three lyrium spots, normally hidden by his white hair, glowed as she touched them lightly with her healing magic. Fenris could not conceal the visibly painful shudder but as she let her magic stream through him, washing away all the pain she could, he relaxed and his head fell on her chest and his arms clasped around her waist. He spoke muffled words, face still pressed to her body:

"Will you stay with me?" 

"I'm not going anywhere without you." 

She said clearly for all to hear. She held him back and as his strength was slowly returning with the help of her magic, her warmth and her caring presence in his life and in his here and now, their embrace tightened. 

Aveline was looking at them with the conflicting emotions of someone witnessing a happy ending and longing for the same connection she had had with someone but had lost. But she felt hopeful more than sad. She knew there was a long way ahead for Fenris and Hawke before the two would have defeated all their demons, in the flesh and otherwise. But she also knew they would make that journey together and only be better for it. Happier. And what if, what if there was someone else there for her as well. That silly guardsman Donnic did rush in to protect her without being sure she needed the protection. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Varric who took her by the elbow and led her out of the training yard and into the barracks proper, waving off some guards at the same time, making up some ridiculous excuse why they were not supposed to train right then. The two went to Aveline's office and despite the still relatively early hour, she filled two glasses without even asking Varric if he wanted a drink. They were sipping the brandy and talking quietly behind the doors that were still open. They didn't keep track of time but at some point Fenris and Hawke appeared in the doorway, glued to one another by their arms resting around each other's waists. Fenris gave them an only slightly sheepish look and said:

"Thank you, Aveline, Varric, both of you. I'm lucky to have such friends." 

And as he took in some air, the expression on his face changed to a more usual half-smirk as he continued.

"And we're going home. To Hawke's. So you're on your own today."

Hawke grinned at them, the happiest they'd ever seen her, and confirmed:

"Soooo, you know where to find us but...don't, OK?"

And luckily, they could count on Varric to do just that.

**Author's Note:**

> The story is AU basically because I don't make Fenris and Hawke wait for three years before they actually decide to talk about their issues. Here's to healthier relationships! ;)


End file.
